Red Yearbook
by Colourful Glitter
Summary: Patrick and his little sister Charlotte are sent to Chicago under court order after Patrick becomes a witness to a murder committed by Red John. They are under the care of Susan Darcy, an FBI agent assigned to keep them safe. During their time in Chicago, Patrick is expected to live like a regular 16 year old. That means going to school, but somehow trouble still seems to find him.
1. Starting

**Author's Note: Yes, an AU fanfic. I got this idea and I figured it wouldn't hurt to post it and see what happened. I will also probably kick myself for this later because I also have the sequel to The Littlest Lisbon to write and that's going to be a multi-chapter fic as well(I'm working on it, for those of you waiting for it, I promise!). But, I wanted to post this and it's also a bit of a change from my other stuff-as it is my first very AU fic. We'll see how I handle two multi-chapter fics. I'm going to do my best! Hope you all enjoy.  
**

**Disclaimer: I never owned the Mentalist.  
**

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The alarm went off and Patrick grumbled, reaching out to the nightstand to slam his hand on the '_off_'' button. His first day of 'normal' life. Whoop. Dee. Do. So far, it was sucking. He was tired and why was he up at-did that say _seven _AM? Patrick groaned, burying his face in the pillow. He heard Charlotte giggling in the hallway, probably excited for her first day of school. At least one of them was excited.

"Hurry up, Patrick." Susan knocked on the door and then opened it to peek inside. "Get up or you're going to be late."

"Right." Patrick yawned sarcastically. "Because I cared so much in the first place."

"Don't try and be a smart ass with me, young man." Agent Darcy told him sternly. "Get up. Now." With that, she shut the door and went to attend to Charlotte.

Patrick made his voice high pitched and mockingly mimicked Susan's words under his breath as he stumbled out of bed. One hand scratched his head as he picked up the uniform he was given and had thrown lazily onto a chair in the corner. He picked it up and headed to the bathroom to change and get ready.

Patrick gave himself one last look over before leaving the bathroom. He wasn't really sold on the uniform, but it wasn't the worst atrocity of an outfit he had ever seen. He could live with it. There was a crisp white button-down collared shirt, grey sweater vest with a logo on the left breast, black pants and a black blazer. To finish it off, he put on the red tie that was also a part of the uniform, though that had presented a small challenge. He checked one last time to see that his curly hair looked fine and left the bathroom to grab some breakfast before leaving for school.

-Mentalist-

Patrick stepped through the big front iron gates of _St. Peter's High_ and looked around the schoolyard that was bustling with students in uniforms. He noticed that the shirts of the uniform were the same for both boys and girls, but the bottoms were different. The girls seemed to wear plaid skirts or fitted black pants. He made his way into the building and found the main office quickly. It was basically right inside the front doors and labelled for his-and everyone else's-convenience.

"How can I help you?" a woman with curly red hair that was pulled back into a bun asked him from behind her desk. Judging from her desk, she was an organized person. Probably a romantic at heart from her sweet demeanour, but still most likely single since he didn't see a ring.

"I'm here to see the principal." Patrick replied, glancing at the name plaque that sat on the desk.

_C. Frye_

He stored that name away, just in case he were to need it again.

Ms. Frye picked up the phone on her desk, dialled a short number and had a quick exchange of words with someone on the other end. Finally, she hung up. "Okay." She said, looking up at him. "Down that hall. Last door on your right."

"Thank you, Ms. Frye." Patrick smiled politely.

"You're welcome." She smiled back.

Patrick made his way down the short hallway and knocked on the proper door.

"Come in," a man's voice said from the other side of the door.

Patrick obeyed quickly, shutting the door behind him.

There was a kind of balding man sitting in an office chair behind a desk in the office. He had on a crisp suit with a tie. Giving off the overall impression of a very professional man, possibly into the petty tyranny thing, especially since he was a high school principal. "Patrick Jane, right?" The man stood up and held out his hand. Patrick shook it and nodded. "I'm Principal Bertram. Welcome to St. Peter's High."

"Thank you, sir." Patrick smiled.

"Here is your schedule." Bertram handed him a piece of yellow paper with a chart on it. "You will have to meet your guidance councilor tomorrow since he is sick today, but other than that, you can feel free to jump right in."

"That's good to hear." Patrick replied politely.

"Do you have any questions, or should I let you be on your way now?"

"I think I'll be able to figure it all out, thank you."

"Okay." Bertram nodded. "Have a good time. And good luck on your first day."

"Thank you." And with that, Patrick left, waving at Ms. Frye as he exited the office and headed off in search of his first class.

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**Author's Note: That's the first chapter. Sorry that it was kind of short. Please let me know if you think I should continue. There will be longer chapters if I continue this story. I just felt this was a good spot to end the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Leave a review, please and thank you! =3  
**


	2. Hello

**Author's Note: Aaaannnnddddddd chapter two of this as well. Yay! Thank you to: Babi Baker, gabriellee and Guest for their reviews of the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. It's also a bit longer. :)  
**

**Disclaimer: Show not owned by me.**

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The hallways were more crowded than he had originally expected, but he managed to weave his way through the other kids. He checked the numbers above all the doors. First period was math with Hightower. Or, so his schedule told him. "109. 111." Patrick read in his head. "Ah-ha! 115." He walked into class just as the bell rang and the teacher turned to walk over and shut the door.

"Quiet down, students." Ms. Hightower told the class in an authoritative tone as the teens all hushed and sat down. She shut the door and then came to stand next to Patrick. "We have a new student today. His name is Patrick Jane. Say hello."

"Hi, Patrick." The class chorused in monotone voices.

"There's a spare seat next to Cho." Ms. Hightower told Patrick, pointing at the only empty desk in the room that was on the far end and next to a very unamused looking Asian boy.

"Thank you." Patrick nodded and went to the seat. After he sat down and got his books and utensils out, he looked over at Cho. He figured he might as well try to be friendly and become acquainted with people while he was here. "Hi." Patrick smiled.

Cho just grunted, not looking up from his note book.

"I just moved here from California." Patrick tried again to start a conversation.

"Cool." Cho mumbled.

And that was the end of that. For the rest of the period, Patrick actually paid attention due to lack of anything else he could think to do. He was very grateful when the end of class bell rang and he quickly packed his things and left, hoping that he sat beside a more social person in his next class.

He managed to make it to second period just in time as well and was pleased with himself so far. First day and he hadn't even been late once. Patrick looked around the room, trying to find someone that looked friendly to sit beside. This was science class. If the movies he had seen about high school were right-and they probably weren't-this was the class where he either met his nemesis or his best friend. Sitting on one of the tall stools at a desk in the middle of the room was a very friendly-looking redhead girl. Her uniform was neat and tidy, hair pulled from her face with sparkling butterfly clips and her skirt was the proper length, unlike some of the other girls who had hiked them up a bit. A good girl, for sure. The type that did her homework, obeyed her parents and probably fangirled really hard for boy bands. The seat next to her looked empty-at least for now-so he made his way over.

"Hi." He said to the redhead.

She looked at him, finally, instead of trying to look around him like she had before. "Hey." She went back to glancing behind him.

"My name's Patrick. I'm new. Can I sit here?"

"Uh…" She looked at the unoccupied seat next to her. "Well there's-I mean…"

"It's taken then." He hadn't really said it like a question.

"Sort of." She blushed. "But sit at that table." She pointed to the table in front of her. "You'll get a good person to sit beside. Promise. Oh. And I'm Grace."

"Hi, Grace." He sat at the table in front of her and looked back. "Thanks."

She sent him a smile before going back to searching the entering students. "Wayne!" She called.

A muscular boy with dark, spiked hair looked over in her direction. Everything about him screamed 'jock'. From the way he held himself to the fact he was only using one backpack strap, but the football his friend tossed him gave away the sport. Wayne made his way over and sat next to Grace. _Now_ he understood. She had a crush on him. Her blush and fidgeting gave it away, if he'd had any doubts.

The last of the crowd entered and sat down for class. The teacher, who had also come in, was just half way to completely closing the door when it was quickly yanked open and a girl stepped through, almost bumping into him.

"You're late, Miss. Lisbon." The chubby bald teacher in his beige suit told the girl. If Patrick's schedule was correct, the teachers name was LaRoche.

"Sorry, sir." Miss. Lisbon mumbled. She had long, dark brown hair that she used to shield most of her face. She was quite different. Her uniform was disgruntled and a little bit wrinkled, her red tie hanging loosely tied over her grey sweater-vest and she seemed to be wearing a baggy pair of boys pants instead of the skirts or girls pants. She saw her emerald gaze scan the room and for a moment thought she had stopped to look at him, then realised that she was really looking _past_ him at Grace. Whatever had been communicated during the exchange had her heading their way and she sat in the empty seat next to him.

"Hi." He smiled at her, still trying to be friendly.

She quickly took her things out of her bag and placed them neatly on her desk. "Hey." She gave him a small smile.

"I'm new here." He whispered, trying to make conversation. "My name is Patrick."

"Teresa." She replied, writing down the date on the blank page of her notebook that she had opened to.

"Teresa. That's a nice name."

"Thanks." She glanced over at him. "Patrick's a cool name, too."

"Thank you." He heard Grace giggle behind him and glanced back to see if he could spot what was so funny.

Teresa noticed his glance. "You'll want to keep looking. She's emotionally unavailable to anyone but Wayne Rigsby back there. He's just too oblivious to see it right now."

Patrick looked at her, surprised. "I wasn't going to go after her. Obviously she wants him. She's flirting."

"Mhm." Teresa raised her brows slightly, with an 'I can tell you're lying' tone. "Sure you weren't."

"I wasn't." He huffed, frazzled that she didn't believe his honesty.

She just continued to copy down the note the teacher had put up on the board and he did the same, figuring he wasn't going to change her mind.

-Mentalist-

A text message had Teresa saying goodbye to him as the class packed up and gathered at the door. He frowned. He hadn't even gotten the chance to really feel like they were friends between the long lecture and the eagle eyes of their teacher.

"She leaves a few minutes early often. She's not running away because she hates you or anything." Grace said from behind him.

He turned to look at her. Wayne was over talking with some of his football buds. "So why did she leave, then?"

Grace looked like she was going to say something but stopped. Then she spoke again. "She's one of my best friends. I can't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

Grace just shook her head and looked up at the clock, eagerly awaiting the bell. It rang and the class poured out of the door to join the main stream of the student body, flowing along to their next classes. Patrick glanced at his schedule and cringed. Geography. Why did he even need that? He could name all the states and their capitals. Why did he need to know about every other country? Nevertheless, he went in search of his class.

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**Author's Note: I'm excited to hear what you guys all thought! As a birthday gift, may I ask for a review? They kinda make my day. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the second chapter and I hope you all join me for the third! :)  
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	3. The Team

**Author's Note: Thank you for all the birthday wishes and reviews ****House ever, Sara, Anon and Guest**! I'm so happy that you're all enjoying the story so far! Here's chapter 3!  


**Disclaimer: Not my show.**

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Geography was boring for the most part. The teacher was old and either spoke way too loudly, or too quietly. The up side was that Grace was in that class as well, so he knew someone and she introduced him to some of her other friends. When the bell rang for lunch, he was very happy. He got a break from all this learning.

"You should sit with me at lunch." Grace said.

Patrick turned to look at her as he slung his bag over his shoulder. "Could I?" He smiled.

"Of course." Grace nodded, enthusiastically. "You can meet Kevin and Anna." They walked out of the geography classroom and Grace chatted about the cafeteria food as well as other normal teenage stuff.

Patrick wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he knew that he didn't suspect it to be _this_ packed. It was worse than the picnic tent after a sudden heavy rainfall. How did people do this every day? He got in line with Grace and after they got their food, they sat down at a table with a boy and a girl with brown hair. Patrick assumed they were related due to the similar face shapes, noses, and hair colour.

"Hey, Kevin. Hey, Anna." Grace greeted as she slipped into an empty seat and Patrick slipped into the one next to her. "This is Patrick. He's new."

"Hello." Anna looked up from her food and whatever she was writing to look at him and gave him a big smile. "Nice to meet you." Her hair was worn in a short bob style and her uniform seemed decently kept.

"Hey, dude." Kevin smiled at him as well, holding his fist out across the table at him, expecting Patrick to bump it with his own fist.

Luckily for Patrick, he had seen some other teenagers do this at the carnival, so he knew exactly how to return the modern teenage gesture and bumped Kevin's fist. This wasn't so hard. "Hey."

Grace took her phone out of her pocket to check her messages. "Teresa isn't going to eat lunch with us." She announced to the table.

"Tommy?" Anna asked.

Grace finished reading the text before closing her phone and replying. "Apparently."

"Who's Tommy?" Patrick asked.

"Her brother." Kevin answered.

"What did he do this time?" Anna sighed.

"Didn't say." Grace shrugged. "I hope she actually eats something for lunch, though."

"She really should." Anna told her. "She and I have track after school. Hunger and track is a really bad mix. I should know. Last time I skipped lunch to finish a project and went to track…it was a disaster."

"Told you." muttered Kevin.

"Shut up." Anna rolled her eyes.

"What do you have last period?" Grace asked Patrick as Anna and Kevin bickered.

Patrick pulled out his schedule to check. "History. With Long."

"Oh. Teresa's in that class to. Tell her that we missed her at lunch." Grace smiled.

"Sure. Hey, we should exchange numbers." Patrick suggested.

"Of course." Grace nodded. "I should have asked you before. Sorry. Pass me your phone?"

Patrick did and Grace quickly put in her number before passing his phone to Kevin and Anna as well.

-Mentalist-

After lunch Patrick sat in history class, making sure that he left the seat next to him open for Teresa. It didn't surprise him that she showed up late. The teacher made her wait outside for five minutes before letting her in. She was clearly not his favourite student. Then again, Patrick wondered if he ever even _had_ favourites. Mr. Long was a tall and skinny man with very plain clothes, dull hair and an average face. There didn't seem to be much that was substantial about him. Patrick came to the conclusion that the man's childhood had probably been boring and filled with history textbooks.

He waved at her and patted the chair next to him as she glanced around to find a seat. She hurried over gladly and sat down next to him.

"Thanks." She breathed, grabbing what she needed from her bag and placing it on her desk.

"No problem." Patrick smiled. "Here." He held out a granola bar to her.

"What's that?" Teresa whispered.

"A granola bar. Grace said you might have skipped lunch and we thought you should have something to eat. Even if it's just something small like this." Patrick whispered back.

"Thank you." Teresa smiled and took the wrapped food from him.

"Either of you care to share what your very important conversation is about?" Mr. Long asked irritably, looking directly at them. The entire class' attention shifted to them.

"Did you know that you can't taste food unless it's mixed with saliva?" Patrick said.

Teresa tried to hide her smile and wrinkled her nose because she wasn't sure if she thought that the fact was randomly funny or just gross.

That seemed to take the teacher by surprise. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"But it is. We all just ate, didn't we?"

The rest of the class looked around at each other and the murmurs of budding conversations started.

"Quiet." Mr. Long ordered. There was silence. "Another wise crack out of you, young man, and I'll send you to the principal for disrupting my class."

"Okay." Was all Patrick said in reply.

Mr. Long seemed undecided on how he felt about that answer, but continued to forge on with his lecture about the Italian Renaissance anyway.

-Mentalist-

When the bell rang to end school, Patrick waved goodbye to Teresa and headed out of the building, off the school's grounds and over the two blocks to Charlotte's school. He got there a few minutes before the end bell rang, so he waited by the front entrance until he picked Charlotte out of the stampede of young kids.

"Charlotte!" He called to her and waved.

The nine year old hurried over to him. 'Hi, Paddy!" She gave him a big hug.

"How was your day?" Patrick asked.

"It was really good!" Charlotte beamed. "Regular school is much more fun than being home schooled! I played hide-and-seek at recess and I'm really good at it."

"That's good to hear." Patrick ruffled her hair.

"Did you have fun, too?" Charlotte asked.

"It was okay."

"Is your school nice?"

"It's alright. Not really fancy or anything." Patrick shrugged and they started down the street. His phone went off and he picked up, seeing that it was Agent Darcy calling. "Hi."

"Hello. How did your day go?" Darcy asked, though she didn't sound particularly interested.

"It was fine." Patrick replied.

"Nothing strange or suspicious?"

"Nope."

"Alright. I was just calling to check in." Darcy told him. "Both of you have to be back by four-thirty at the latest. If not, I'm going to have to assume something's wrong unless you call and tell me."

"Okay." Patrick rolled his eyes. "We'll be back on time. Bye." And he hung up.

"Was that Susan?" Charlotte asked.

"Yeah."

"She's really nice." Charlotte smiled.

"Sure." Patrick didn't really agree. There was the loud noise of a whistle and some shouting as they passed St. Peter's High on their way back home.

"What's going on there?" Charlotte let go of Patrick's hand to stand in front of the fence, trying to get a better look.

"Team practice or something." Patrick told her.

"Is this your school?" Charlotte turned to look at him.

"Yeah. This is my school."

"Can we go watch?" Charlotte asked. "I want to see your school team!"

"We have to get back."

"Please, Patrick!? Pretty please?" Charlotte pouted.

Patrick groaned. She was pulling the puppy-dog face. He _hated_ the puppy-dog face. Sometimes he could hold his ground against it, but not usually. "Fine. But only for a few minutes."

"Yay!" Charlotte cheered and they both made their way onto the school property and over to the bleachers. A few people were scattered over the bleachers. Most of them were girlfriends and friends of the girlfriends of guys on the football team who were practicing on the main field. The track and field team practiced on the track surrounding the main field.

Patrick and his sister sat down on a bleacher about halfway up. It was hard to tell if he saw Wayne because they were all wearing football helmets, but he recognised Teresa as the track team broke from their team huddle. She was wearing some battered up sneakers that were probably once white, but had now become grey, black basketball shorts and a baggy old t-shirt that was promoting the band AC/DC. Her hair was all tied back now, giving him an undisrupted view of her face. A view he much appreciated.

Teresa lined up with some others on the track team and took a ready position. When the coach said 'go' she took off, much faster than Patrick had anticipated and he was surprised. He didn't miss the small smile on her face as she sprinted around the track, pushing her legs to move faster and her long hair flowing behind her in the ponytail like a flag. Despite her short stature, she managed to pull first in the little group that she'd been running in. She got high-fives and congratulations from her team mates. After accepting the congratulations, she walked over to her bag that was carelessly tossed on the grass to get her water bottle and take a good swig from it.

"She's really fast." Charlotte commented.

"Huh?" Patrick blinked, remembering his sister was there.

"The pretty brown haired girl that came in first. She's really fast."

"Yeah." Patrick agreed.

"Are you okay?" Charlotte asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Patrick nodded. "I was just thinking…about…some stuff that happened today."

"What kind of stuff?" Charlotte tilted her head.

"Teenager stuff." Patrick threw out the reply quickly. "Come on. We gotta get back or Darcy will have a cow."

"You mean, like a hamburger?" Charlotte inquired. "Hamburgers come from cows."

"A hamburger the size of a cow." Patrick grinned slightly as he got up, ushering Charlotte to do the same. "Come on." He took her hand and they headed back to the house.

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**Author's Note: And that's chapter 3! Thanks for reading, and please review! =3  
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	4. Nothing

**Author's Note: So, here is chapter 4! Sorry that I don't have chapter 4 for The Littlest Things done yet. I am working on it, promise. I just got more done with this story than that one. I hope you all enjoy this chapter though.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist.**

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Patrick wasn't quite as pessimistic the second day about going to school. Of course, he was still unhappy about waking up as early as he had to, but it wasn't as bad as he had anticipated. He put on his rather boring, but not totally atrocious, uniform and headed out for school after eating some breakfast and grabbing his bag.

"Hey, Grace!" He called, waving as he saw the redhead about to walk in the gates of the school ground.

"Oh! Hey, Patrick!" Grace smiled back, stopping to wait for him to catch up. "How was your night?"

"Pretty good, I guess." Patrick had caught up and they both walked to the school doors.

"I bet you still have tons of unpacking."

"Actually, it's not a lot." Patrick shrugged.

"Really?" Grace was surprised. "Everyone I've ever talked to that moved said they had tons of unpacking."

"I just pack lightly, I guess. Also, your hair is very nice today." He had noticed that she had taken a bit of extra time and care with her morning routine. A little bit more sparkle in her eye shadow and a very nice half up/half down hairstyle with braids. She even had some nicer earrings on. Clearly she was trying to get a certain someone's attention. Maybe a certain someone who was a football jock and went by the name Wayne Rigsby?

"Oh." She smiled and blushed a bit. "Thank you. I woke up and felt like doing a bit extra this morning."

"You did well. You look very nice."

"Thanks."

"Hey, that's the same necklace you were wearing yesterday, wasn't it?" Patrick vocalised his observation.

"Yeah." Grace smiled, one of her hands raising to touch the pendant. "It's a friendship necklace." She stopped and they moved over to the side of the hallway so they wouldn't be in anyone's way.

Patrick looked at the necklace. It was gold and there were two linked handcuffs. Upon a closer look he noticed that written around one of the handcuffs links was '_Partners in Crime_'. "So, who has the other one?" Patrick asked. "Your 'partner in crime'."

Grace smirked. "It's not the typical friendship necklace, but all the others I saw were so ordinary. Teresa has the other one. Hers is silver. I just saw them and thought they were cute and funny."

"It is cute." Patrick agreed. Though, he didn't recall Teresa wearing a friendship necklace. She'd been wearing a gold cross. Hmm. Odd.

The warning bell rang, letting all the students know that they should get to their classes.

"Well, don't want to be late. See you in science." Grace waved and headed off for her class as Patrick said goodbye and headed for his as well.

Cho was still very limited in the words he spoke, causing Patrick to search for some friendly conversation elsewhere. The two kids sitting behind him, Will and Jerry, were receptive to his friendly hello, though. They had a decent conversation and swapped phone numbers before the bell rang to end the period. Patrick packed up his things and headed to science. He found that he was actually looking quite forward to that class.

"Hey." Grace smiled and waved at him as he sat in his seat in front of her. Wayne was getting his things from his bag.

"Hi." Patrick smiled back. He couldn't help but notice that Grace seemed a little bit disappointed. Just slightly. Wayne probably hadn't noticed her extra effort and attention in her preparation that morning. No. That couldn't be it. Wayne's body language showed that he clearly had noticed. Ah-ha. He hadn't _told her_ he'd noticed. Well, he was just going to have to help them along, wasn't he? "I really like your earrings, Grace." He stated, then looked at Wayne. "Don't you think her earrings are pretty, Wayne?"

"Uh." Wayne looked up from his blank notebook page that he was trying to occupy himself with as opposed to creepily staring at the pretty redhead next to him. "Yeah." He smiled, awkwardly. "The earrings are very pretty. You look very nice today, Grace."

The redhead all but fainted at the compliment from Wayne.

Patrick grinned as he turned back around to get his things from his backpack. His work here was done for the day. The bell rang and he looked at the door, waiting for Teresa to come running in, barely making it on time like the day before. He slowly felt his hope slipping away once the door was closed and the lesson had begun. Five minutes passed and there still wasn't a knock. Ten minutes. Nothing. Half an hour. Where was she?

"Mr. Jane." LaRoche said, snapping him to attention.

"Huh?" Patrick blurted cluelessly.

"What is an ionic compound? And can you give me an example of one?"

"Yeah. Uh." Patrick thought for a moment. He knew this. He had read it somewhere. He cleared his throat. "An ionic compound is the bond between a positively charged molecule and a negatively charged molecule. An example is ordinary table salt. NaCl. Ionic compounds also-"

"Thank you, Mr. Jane. That is correct." LaRoche seemed quite peeved that Patrick had answered right when he'd wanted to catch the boy off guard.

There were a few giggles from the class at the fact that Patrick had gotten it right and a few surprised looks, but the lesson forged on.

-Mentalist-

"Thank god that's over." Patrick sighed as he packed up his things after the bell rang.

"Ready for geography?" Grace asked in a perky voice. At least she was having a fantastic day. She was standing next to his desk, backpack on and ready to head out.

"Oh, I'm so excited." Patrick replied with sarcastic enthusiasm.

Grace laughed. "Yeah. Mr. Bart isn't the best teacher we have."

"Oh, I would seriously hope not." Patrick and Grace left the science classroom and headed down the crowded hall for geography. "Do you know why Teresa wasn't in class?"

"She texted me and told me she didn't feel well, so she went home after first. I think one of the kids that sits next to her in first was sick a few days ago. She probably just got a cold or something." Grace had a reassuring smile on her face, but Patrick felt that there was something she wasn't telling him.

"Well, chicken noodle soup will probably do her some good." He smiled and played along, not feeling it was appropriate to accuse his new friend of being a liar. They settled into their desks, saying hello to Anna and Kevin.

-Mentalist-

The rest of the day had been quite boring. Patrick's more optimistic opinion from that morning was gone. Now he had homework to do and yesterday Agent Darcy had issued chores for both him and Charlotte. She insisted that it was so they would know what it was like to be 'normal', but Patrick was sure it was because she was too lazy to want to do them herself and didn't have the budget to hire a maid.

As he waited for Charlotte to be released from school, it occurred to him that he'd forgotten to meet his guidance counsellor. Oh, well. That probably wasn't very important anyway. He was doing just fine regardless.

"Patrick!" Charlotte called, running over to him.

"Hey." He smiled and waved at her as she approached. "How was your day?"

"It was so. Much. Fun!" Charlotte squealed.

"That's good." Was everyone having a fun day, but him?

"Did you do lots of fun stuff, too?" Charlotte asked.

"Probably not as exciting as you."

He listened to Charlotte with feigned interest as they walked home. Agent Darcy wasn't there when they got back. She was probably off attending to other FBI stuff, Patrick unlocked the door and put in the alarm code as he and Charlotte entered. "Go do your homework, Charlotte. If you even have any. I'll see what I can find to eat." The house wasn't huge, but it was by no means small. To the immediate left of the front door was a decently sized coat closet, then further down the hall still on the left was the spacious living room that shared space with a nice dining room. At the very end off the hall was a kitchen, separated from a casual dining area by a counter. Across from the entrance to the living room was the stairs leading to the second floor and next to those stairs was the steps to the laundry room/basement.

"I don't have any homework." Charlotte replied, happily.

"Lucky you." Patrick muttered as he walked down the hallway to the kitchen. On the kitchen counter separating the kitchen from the casual dining area was a note. Patrick picked it up and read it.

_Patrick and Charlotte,_

_I have some other business to handle and that is why I'm not at the house. I will be back around eight and stocked up the fridge with food for you both. Don't go out anywhere, but if it is absolutely necessary, you are to call me and tell me first and you both must go. No going places by yourself, especially after dark. Make sure you both get your homework done. Yes, Patrick, I mean you as well._

_Agent Darcy_

"Thanks, mom." Patrick thought with bitter sarcasm and rolled his eyes as he went to the fridge to find something to eat. He bumped his hip on the counter, and was reminded of the cell phone inside his pocket. Since he'd never really had one before, or anyone to text, he fumbled with the buttons and controls until he managed to send out a mass text to all his school friend contacts with the word _hey _to see if he could find some entertainment on that front.

-Mentalist-

God, he was so bored. B-O-R-E-D. Bored! He had finished his homework-which was not exciting in the least-and everyone he had been texting was now too busy to text. He glanced at the clock. Six thirty. An hour and a half until Darcy got back. Charlotte was downstairs being entertained with TV and colouring or whatever. Patrick was laying in his bed and staring up at the ceiling. He sighed heavily. His phone made the funny little noise that let him know that he'd gotten a text. Confused, he went over to his desk and picked up the piece of technology to read the message.

'_…Who is this?_' It was a text from Teresa. He'd sent his text over two hours ago, and she was just replying now?

'_Patrick. Grace gave me your number yesterday. Sorry if I disturbed you._' He was surprised that this time he didn't have to wait so long for a reply.

'_Oh. You didn't. Its fine._'

'_Ok good. Missed you in science and history. Grace said you're sick_' The reply wasn't as quick as the last one he'd gotten. He glanced out the window over his desk that he was standing next to. The sun was getting a little lower in the sky. It was half way through September. Idly, Patrick wondered what all the girls with short skirts were going do when winter hit. Get frostbite on their legs? Didn't sound like fun.

'_Just wasn't feeling well this morning. Probably be back tomorrow._'

'_Ok. Have a restful day?_' He knew she probably needed her rest, but he couldn't help it. He was _so bored_. And she was the only semblance of entertainment he had.

'_Yeah. But I gotta finish the homework Grace brought me._'

'_An example of an ionic compound is table salt. Question 1 on the science sheet. And question 1 on history is Michael Angelo_'

'_Thanks. Talk to you later._'

'_Sure. Feel free to text me if you need any answers_'. "Or if you wouldn't mind making me a little less bored with my sucky life." Patrick added in his head. He put his phone back on his desk and was about to turn and see if he could find something good to watch with Charlotte when something caught his eye outside. A figure dressed in all black was standing on the sidewalk near the front yard of their next door neighbours, but they were standing facing his house. Patrick squinted, trying to make out something more substantial than black clothes and a masculine form, but couldn't because of the neighbour's hedge and the distance. After a few minutes, the person turned and walked away casually. Patrick couldn't help the unsettling feeling in his gut. Quickly, he went downstairs to check on Charlotte. She was fine. He checked the alarm. Still fine. A few minutes later, Darcy returned home early.

"Everything was fine?" She asked him.

"Yeah." Patrick lied. Maybe the guy was just some weird kind of extra security. He didn't want to start raising false alarms. "Nothing happened."

* * *

**Author's Note: Dun. Dun! DDUUUNNN! That's chapter four. Hope it was enjoyable. Please leave a review.**


	5. Dirty Dishes

**Author's Note: Here is chapter 5. I had some serious writers block toward this story for some reason and it took me a while to push through it. I'm glad that I have and present you with the newest chapter. Ta-da!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

Math had gone decently well. For once, Patrick even managed to get Cho to say a few words of conversation. It wasn't by any means the most lengthily, in depth or fascinating conversation ever, but he felt he was making some sort of progress with the other student. He had texted Teresa earlier, but have not gotten a reply. He took his seat in science, getting his things out.

"The homework last night sucked, didn't it?" Grace said, trying to start up a conversation with either Wayne or Patrick. "I mean, he says questions one to four. I was so happy because it was only four questions. But then I started the homework and each question had, like, five sub-questions. What's with that?"

"I don't know." Wayne shook his head. "I didn't even do question four."

"I guess it's the science majors form of a magic trick." Patrick joked.

"Lame trick." Grace snorted.

"I second that."

"I third it." Patrick smiled and the bell rang. Quickly, he looked to the door, hoping Teresa would show up. Luckily, she did. She barely slipped through the quickly closing classroom door and made her way over to her seat, head down and hair shielding her face. Was it just him, or were her movements odd? They weren't so fluid. Now they were jerky and awkward-looking. Her shirt was still a little unkempt, but now it was buttoned up all the way. She didn't say anything as she sat down and got her things out. Not even a "hi".

"Teresa?" Grace asked quietly.

The brunette turned so that her back was to Patrick and he couldn't see her face. "Yeah?"

"You sure you're okay? Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks."

"Okay…But let me know if you do."

"I will." Teresa nodded and turned to face the front, still hiding her face from Patrick behind a veil of dark hair.

"Still feeling sort of sick?" Patrick asked in a friendly and casual tone.

"Yeah." Was her short reply as she opened to the page in her notebook where she'd completed the homework.

No matter how hard Patrick tried to pry and find out what was wrong, Teresa deflected or ignored all his attempts. He knew there was something she wasn't telling him. It was very obvious. Why did she seem so sore today? That couldn't just be from a cold. Maybe she'd fallen or something?

"Patrick." Mr. LaRoche snapped him out of his thoughts. "How about you come and write your work for 3 d) from the homework on the board."

"Yes, sir." Patrick answered robotically and got up to do as he was told. He _would_ get to the bottom of this. He _would_.

-Mentalist-

After school Patrick took his time at his locker, still pondering. He didn't see the need to rush since Charlotte's school wasn't out and she took her time leaving to talk to her new friends. Patrick was a little jealous, if he was being honest. He had friends, but they were more secretive than Charlotte's. Teenagers always had secrets. Especially the ones at his school, apparently.

"Patrick, right?"

He turned from his locker to see a familiar face. "Yeah, uh…Wayne. Hey. What's up?"

"Um…I know we don't know each other that well or anything, but, I was wondering if you'd be willing to do me a favour?"

"What do you need? A wingman to impress Grace? You already impressed her."

Wayne looked dumbfounded. "Uh-y-um…how did you know that?" He stammered.

"I just know these things." Patrick shrugged.

"Well, I want to ask her out, but she doesn't really know any of my friends and sometimes my friends are idiots."

"Really?" Patrick raised a surprised brow.

"Last time I asked a girl on a double date, my friend managed to gross _me_ out and his date refused to even talk to the girl I was with. It was horrible.

Ouch. That really had to suck. No wonder he was worried. "So, you want me to go with you on the double date with Grace?"

"Yeah, man. We're cool, right? And you and her are friends. And you seem like a good wingman." Clearly, he was referring to when Patrick had helped him out the other day.

"I guess that would be fine. I don't know. My…" Patrick wasn't sure what to call Agent Darcy. He certainly _wasn't _going to call her mom. "My aunt is kind of strict and stuff. So, I just need to know the details and stuff before I can say for sure. Also, I don't have a date."

Wayne seemed to contemplate that for a moment.

"I mean, I don't want to be a third wheel or anything. Otherwise, I'd totally be up for it."

"Yeah, I get it." Wayne smiled understandingly and gleefully that Patrick had basically agreed. "I'll text you with more details later, just give me your number."

"Sure." Patrick pulled out his phone and they swapped numbers.

"Cool." Wayne grinned goofily as he hurried off, probably to football practice or something.

Well, at least Patrick had sort of made plans with friends. That was a pleasing note. He zipped his backpack up and swung it carelessly over his shoulder, closing his locker and heading out. The crowd in the hallways had dissipated a bit, thankfully.

"Would you both _stop_!?" He heard a familiar voice almost yell in irritation.

Patrick stopped and pulled out his phone to look busy as he leaned against the wall near Teresa, Grace and…Cho? They hung out with Cho?

"We're just worried." Grace said, much more quiet.

"I'm fine." Teresa huffed stubbornly.

"You were limping this morning." Cho put in, seemingly unfazed by everything.

"It wasn't even that bad. I've gotten worse before."

"That's not an excuse. That doesn't make this any better." Grace insisted. "Especially since you avoided me and the others at lunch."

"I wasn't avoiding you."

"Really? So it actually took you all of lunch break to pee?" Grace was not impressed or convinced.

"Is this a conversation I need to stick around for?" Cho asked, not particularly thrilled about the idea of a women's washroom conversation.

"Stay." Grace pleaded. "I can't hold her down if she tries to run."

"Are you done with the bathroom part?"

"Yeah."

"Fine. I'll stay for now." Cho crossed his arms.

"Thank you. Anyway." Grace addressed Teresa again.

"I _wasn't_ avoiding you. I swear." Teresa said.

"Then what the hell were you doing?" Grace put her hands on her hips. "You were avoiding something. Or someone. Or-wait. Was it P-"

"I'm sore and I have my own business that I want to keep my business. I didn't want to bring down the whole cheery lunch thing that happens."

"So you ditched us." Grace summarized. "I think you're even freaking out Patrick. He's worried about you."

"Why?" Teresa seemed genuinely surprised. "He barely knows me. Whatever. I have to go. I have work."

"You're still going to go to work?" Grace's jaw dropped.

"I have to. What else am I supposed to do?"

"Call in sick?" Cho offered.

"I need the money. I can't just call in sick. I'll text you guys later." Teresa turned to leave.

"Teresa, come on. At least let me walk you." Grace pleaded.

"No. I'm fine. See you guys later." Teresa walked…more like limped away.

Patrick quickly left, heading in the opposite direction, hoping not to be noticed by the two left behind. He hurried to Charlotte's school, now a little late to pick her up and she was waiting.

"What took you so long?" Charlotte asked curiously.

"Nothing." Patrick shrugged. "Just a friend and I were talking for a bit longer than I thought is all. You're fine, though, right? I'll try not to be late again."

"I'm fine." She smiled. "It's okay. My friend Andy stayed with me for a little while. But then his older brother came to pick him up."

"Ooooh. _Andy_?" Patrick teased.

"Yeah." Charlotte didn't quite get his implication. "He's one of my friends."

Patrick didn't tease her further, seeing as she didn't understand. They continued to walk in a comfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by them saying something about their day.

"Patrick?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we do something today? Like, go to the park or go for a walk? Something? I like the house, but it's so _boring_ to be there all the time."

"You'll have to ask Agent Darcy." Patrick shrugged as he saw their house down the block.

"Is she home?"

"I have no idea." Patrick and Charlotte walked through the front door. "Hello!?" Patrick called.

"No need to be so noisy." Agent Darcy appeared out of the living room, looking professional, as always. Of course, except for in her pyjamas or really early in the morning. She was a complete mess in the morning.

"Susan." Charlotte greeted, cheerily. "Can we go out today? Can we go to the park? Or the mall? Or an arcade?"

"I don't know…I have some paperwork."

Patrick almost snorted, but held back. What paperwork would she have to fill out? Did she just sit there all day writing a sentence over and over, like a punishment? "But we need to go out." He blurted to help Charlotte's case, both for Charlotte and because he didn't feel like being cramped up in the house for the rest of the day either.

"What for?" Agent Darcy raised a brow at him.

"Food." Patrick said the first thing he could think of that was a necessity. "There's not much food. Nothing to cook."

"We have food."

"For maybe two more days, if we're lucky." Patrick shot back.

Agent Darcy thought about the food supply, what they had of one, anyway. "I guess you're right. Fine. We will go shopping in an hour or so. After I finish my paperwork and you both do your homework."

"Yay!" Charlotte squealed. "Thank you!"

"You're…welcome?" Agent Darcy had never seen a child so excited for grocery shopping before.

Charlotte hurried off to the dining room to do her homework.

"She loves going to new places." Patrick hurriedly said as he removed his shoes and headed upstairs so he could begrudgingly do his own homework.

-Mentalist-

Charlotte held Agent Darcy's hand as she skipped along between the FBI Agent and her older brother on the sidewalk. Patrick had no interest whatsoever to hold the agent's hand and she, in return, had no interest in holding his. It was a win-win for them both.

"Maybe we can go to the park tomorrow?" Charlotte inquired. "Could I go with some of my friends?"

"Only if you have someone there to supervise you." Agent Darcy replied.

Charlotte mauled over that response silently, trying to decide if that was a yes or a no.

"What about me?" Patrick asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. "Could I hang out with some of my friends?"

"Depends what that means." Agent Darcy looked at him sceptically.

Patrick shrugged. "A friend asked me if I wanted to hang out with him and some others sometime. That's all. If Charlotte can go to the park with her friends, why couldn't I hang out with my friends? I'm just wondering."

"That really depends on the friends and what you're doing when you're 'hanging out'."

"He said he'd text me more later." Patrick rolled his eyes. "It's just a question, sheesh."

They entered the grocery store. The trip not going very smoothly after that.

"What is that?" Patrick wrinkled his nose slightly.

"Eggplant." Darcy replied. "It's healthy."

"Ew. I'm not eating that." Patrick shook his head. "If you're going to try for healthy, can't we just get soup and then say we're healthy. Or green tea. That's healthy. Tea in general, really."

"You drink tea?" Agent Darcy raised her brows at him.

"Of course I drink tea. What did you think I'd drink? _Coffee_?" Patrick cringed. "Yuck."

Charlotte giggled. "I don't mind coffee so much."

"You're never getting coffee again. Last time you had coffee, I had to spend an extra hour backstage with dad to help clean up the mess of everything you knocked over on your little caffeine high."

"But it was tasty."

"At least you got something good out of it." Patrick rolled his eyes.

"Don't bicker." Darcy told them both. "Lets go to the check out." They all stood in line once their cart had a decent amount of food in it and checked out.

"At least some of the food we got is edible." Patrick sighed, carrying a few grocery bags.

"What's that place?" Charlotte asked, pointing at a restaurant down the street with some people sitting outside at some tables. "Is that a restaurant?"

"Yes." Darcy answered.

"I've never been to one before. Can we go? Can we? Please, please, _please_?"

Darcy looked at Patrick, disbelievingly. They hadn't ever eaten at a restaurant before?

Patrick shook his head and shrugged. "Never."

Darcy sighed heavily. "Okay. We'll go to the restaurant."

"This is awesome!" Charlotte jumped as her face lit up.

Patrick was grateful. Charlotte was a soft spot for Darcy. Awesome.

It wasn't a super fancy restaurant, just one of those family diners. The staff wore black shirts with the logo on it and seemed friendly enough. Their waitress was quite bubbly and about Patrick's age.

"Can I start you off with something to drink?" She tucked some blond hair behind her ear and gave Patrick a good bat of her eyelashes.

"Do you have any tea?" Patrick smiled.

"Iced tea?" She asked, a little surprised.

"Uh, no. Actually, I'd just like some apple juice."

"Okay." The waitress smiled, writing down his drink order before getting Agent Darcy and Charlotte's drink orders and heading off.

"You're flirting with waitresses now?" Darcy raised a brow.

"Wha-? That was her. I didn't ask her to. It's not my fault if I'm charming and handsome." Patrick grinned.

"Yeah." Darcy replied sarcastically. "Must be a huge burden for you."

"I do my best to handle it."

Darcy snorted.

They each had a decent meal, though conversation was a bit awkward for them all. Most of it was Charlotte talking about school and all the cool things she was learning.

"I need to use the washroom." Patrick excused himself after Darcy had asked for the bill. The place was starting to get quite busy for a Thursday. He saw the sign telling him where the bathrooms were and headed in that direction. It was down a little hallway that shared an entrance to the kitchen. "Oh, I'm so sorry." Patrick said quickly as he bumped into someone exiting the kitchen, quickly reaching out to stop the dirty dishes from crashing to the ground off their tray.

"I'm sorry!" The other person blurted at the same time.

Patrick shifted his gaze cautiously, afraid that if the dishes he was balancing left his sight they might fall. He looked at the face of the person he'd bumped into. "Teresa?"

"Patrick. Uh, could you…?" She glanced at the dishes. They were now all awkwardly stacked and Patrick wasn't sure he could fix it without putting them down.

"We have to find somewhere to put them."

"Yeah. Come on." They both awkwardly shuffled to the end of the hallway, both holding the dishes in place and Teresa pushed through the door marked '_Staff Only_' with her butt. Once inside, Patrick helped her settle the dishes in a steady pile on one of the metallic tables. The room was bustling with other staff who were cleaning, drying or organizing dishes.

"So, you work at a restaurant?" Patrick raised a brow.

"Yeah." Teresa replied quickly, shoving him out the door.

"Pushy." He joked.

"You shouldn't be in here. You're not staff. Sorry for bumping into you. Thanks for your help." She wiped at some stray hairs on her forehead once they were outside the door.

"No problem. Sorry. Wait, what's that?" He asked, noticing something on her forearm.

"What's wh-nothing." she rolled her sleeve back down.

"Were those cuts?"

"No."

"Yes they were."

"I was a little clumsy and fell and cut my arm, okay?"

"And bruised it like that?"

She gave him a death glare.

"Okay." Patrick nodded, he knew he was being lied to. "So, you're a waitress? No. Bus girl. That's it. You're a bus girl."

She gave him and odd look.

"You don't want to be a waitress because some customers are really rude and particular, which annoys you profoundly. So, you're perfectly content just cleaning the tables and dishes, not having to put up with those annoying customers."

"Are you…what the hell? You trying to make me think that you're reading my mind or something?"

"So, I'm right."

"No-y-_no_." Teresa huffed irritably. "Don't you have somewhere to be? I have to get back to work. I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she was off.

Patrick smirked. Maybe normal life wasn't such a bad thing. He had plenty of things to keep him busy. Primarily, whatever secret was behind those injuries of Teresa's and whatever else his friends thought they might be able to hide from him. They wouldn't succeed.


	6. Answer Me

**Author's Note: So, at first I was hit with a little bit of writers block for this story, but I managed to push through that. Thank you to Guest who commented on the last chapter, as well as all the other followers, favourite-ers and reviewers for this story. I appareciate it guys! :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist.**

* * *

"Hey, Patrick!"

Patrick turned around in the hallway to see Wayne hurrying toward him. "Morning."

"Morning." Wayne returned with a goofy grin as he swung an arm around Patrick's shoulders.

"Okay. So, I think I have a plan for the date."

"Wow." Patrick raised his brows. "That didn't take you very long. Just a day."

"Is that not long enough? Should I think about it more." Wayne's arm slipped off of Patrick's shoulders and he looked worried.

"No, no. I'm sure it's a good plan. I'm just saying it didn't take you long. Quick thinker. So, what was your thinking?"

"At first I wanted to go this weekend, but that's too short notice. So it'll be either next Friday or Saturday, whichever is more convenient. As for what we do…I know it's pretty clichéd and whatever, but I was thinking dinner. Clichéd or not, girls love that stuff. I think. Then we could go to a movie. That new sappy movie comes out today, so it'll be there next weekend."

Patrick nodded. "I guess it sounds like a decent plan. What if I told you I could figure out the restaurant she would want to go to and the movie she most wants to see by the end of the day?"

"What?" Wayne looked at him sceptically. "How would you do that without letting her know I want to ask her out?"

"I'm sort of a psychic." Patrick tapped his head with his index finger.

"Yeah, right." Wayne snickered.

"I have ten bucks that says I can do it. Twenty that says I can give you pointers that'll really help you win her over."

"You're on." Wayne held out his hand. "It's a bet."

Patrick shook the other boy's hand and the warning bell rang, sending them both heading toward their first period classes.

-Mentalist-

"Hello, Grace." Patrick greeted very cheerily as he saw the red head sitting in her chair in science. Teresa and Wayne weren't there yet.

"Hey." She smiled in return. "You seem really happy today. Get some really good news?"

"Nah." Patrick shrugged as he sat in his seat. "Just woke up on the right side of the bed, I guess."

"Well, that's always a good way to begin a new day."

"I very much agree. Anyway. Do you know any sports teams that have tryouts coming up or something? My aunt wants me to try out for some. Something about learning to be a team player, or some other nonsense like that."

"I think maybe basketball…" Grace thought. "Football already had tryouts, but I can talk to my dad and see if you could try out."

"You're dad's the coach?" Patrick thought about it for a moment, then realised it was so obvious that he could have smacked himself for being even slightly surprised.

"Yeah." Grace nodded.

"Thanks for the offer, I appreciate it, really. But, football isn't really my thing. I have nothing against it, but I don't really play. Do you? Play football?"

"I'm okay." Grace blushed a bit and nodded. "My dad taught me how to play and stuff. I played with my brother a bit when I was younger. Teresa's better at it than I am, though."

"Hm." Patrick smiled and gave a nod. "What's your favourite sport?"

"I think it's probably football or soccer."

"That's cool. I think my favourite is table tennis."

"You mean ping pong?" A smirk tugged at the edges of Grace's smile.

"You say that like it's not a real sport." Patrick feigned offence.

"It's not." Grace chuckled.

"It is so." Patrick huffed. "Maybe it's not popular like football and soccer and whatever, but it is a sport. Ping Pong players can be just as cool as football or soccer players. We Ping Pong players are just as capable of being cool and strong, witty, romance-y and charming as you ladies like."

"I'm sure that a girl watching her boyfriend slap a thug with a Ping Pong paddle in defense against a mugging is very hot." Grace shot back jokingly.

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Patrick told her. "Don't underestimate the wooing ability and romance of a Ping Pong paddle."

Grace snickered a little in good humour.

"Speaking of wooing and romance, here comes Mr. Wayne Rigsby."

"Be quiet!" Grace snapped at him in a hushed voice, blushing.

Patrick just grinned widely and turned to sit properly in his seat and get his stuff out as the bell rang and Wayne sat down. As usual, Teresa rushed into class, barely on time and took her seat next to Patrick. "Have a good night?" He whispered.

Teresa glanced at him as she got her things out of her bag. She seemed to be sceptical, curious and suspicious all at the same time. "Yeah."

"That's good. Hope you had a good sleep. You seemed tired yesterday."

"Yeah. I'm fine." She mumbled, turning her attention to her notebook as LaRoche started the class.

-Mentalist-

"Are you sure there's actually meat in that meatloaf?" Patrick asked, inspecting Grace's bought lunch. He was currently sitting at the lunch table between Grace and Teresa. For the first time all week they had everyone there.

Grace poked the food with her fork. "I think so. There should be."

"So you're parents gave you money because there was nothing to give you for lunch?"

"Yeah." Grace nodded. "Kinda wish they had given me a bit more money so I could have gotten something besides the special for the day. Or that they had picked a different day to run out of food. Turkey Tuesday is way better than Meatloaf Friday."

"Agreed." Anna nodded. "But the worst is Tuna Mondays."

"You think that they would have made it Meatloaf Monday instead of Meatloaf Friday." Kevin mused.

"Ew! So I could have Tuna Friday right now? No thanks." Grace wrinkled her nose.

"You could have some of my ham sandwich." Teresa offered.

"You can have some of my banana." Anna added, trying to help Grace out.

"And my aunt packed me some pasta, if your meatloaf is too terrible to handle I guess I could share." Patrick put in.

"Thanks guys." Grace smiled. "I'll just eat it really fast and wash out the taste with my soda. Thanks for the offers, though."

"Maybe you'll get lucky next time and get Turkey Tuesday." Patrick said. "My personal favourite food is probably eggs. Or blueberry muffins."

"Yuck. Eggs." Kevin stuck out his tongue.

"Eggs are good." Patrick defended.

"Is this lunch therapy now?" Teresa joked.

"If you want it to be." Patrick turned and smiled at her before looking back at Grace. "If you could wish up your ideal lunch, what would it be?"

"Hmmm…" Grace contemplated the question and everyone waited curiously to see what she would answer with. "I think…I would like to have some strawberry yogurt, a club sandwich and some chocolate mousse with colourful sprinkles for dessert."

"That dessert sounds particularly good." Anna nodded.

"Definitely." Teresa also agreed.

-Mentalist-

"Oh, come on, Teresa." Patrick complained. "At least tell me your favourite movie."

"No." Teresa shook her head as she packed up her stuff at the end of history class.

"Just that one question. Your favourite movie."

"Nuh-uh."

"Everyone else answered the questions at lunch. You just pretended to be reading your textbook. Come on. Just answer one of those questions. Just one. Why not? What's the harm?"

"You seemed pretty content guessing stuff about me yesterday. Why should I start giving you answers? As for the harm…I don't even want to know what kind of catastrophic event might come from me actually answering your questions."

"Aw, that's no fun. Live a little. Do something dangerous. I'm not asking you to give me the pass code to America's nuclear weapons arsenal or anything."

"Now you want to blow up the world?" Teresa smiled and shook her head as she headed out the door, Patrick following close behind.

"Of course not. You know you want to tell me, though. You really do. You're refusals to answer are intriguing."

"I have practise, okay?" Teresa stopped and turned to face him. "There are plenty of other people to harass about food and movies in this school if that's how you want to spend your time. I'll see you later. Goodbye, Patrick."

He didn't follow as she walked away. As stern and irritated as he knew she wanted to come across, he had seen that little smile and that ever so faint blush on her cheeks. Patrick headed for his locker, hoping to bump into Wayne. Patrick had twenty dollars to collect.

"Dude, hey." Wayne quickly approached, clearly heading out to practise.

"Oh, hey." Patrick smiled and waved.

Wayne leaned against the locker next to Patrick's, lowering his voice. "So? Did you figure it out?"

"Yes. Yes, I did, Wayne." Patrick replied proudly.

"And…?"

"Well, for one, you're idea about the sappy movie was good. She does like those romance movies. However, I think that, that other movie with the action and government agents where the two main characters are dating is a better idea. I don't really know the title of it, but some of my friends in math say it looks like a decent movie. Grace does appreciate some action as well, and you'll both have more to talk about afterward and you're less likely to fall asleep during it, lets be honest."

"Hey-"

"Don't worry. I wouldn't want to waste my money on a sappy movie I was going to fall asleep through, either. I get it. Anyway. She likes to be romanced a little. Don't go really overboard, though. This _is_ a first date, remember. I would bet on a sort of intimate and dressy, but not over-the-top fancy or romantic. Plus, they won't kill your wallet, so you can go to that movie after. Be open and charming, but still mysterious. She appreciates a little bit of funny banter. You're welcome and I accept cash." Patrick attended to his backpack.

"Okay. How the hell did you come up with that? You completely made that up, right? I mean, come on."

Patrick shook his head. "Nope. Completely serious. Didn't make it up or anything and a magician never reveals his secrets."

"Magician." Wayne muttered a little irritably that Patrick had made it all seem so easy.

"Yep. So, when do I get paid?"

"I'm not paying you until after the date, _if_ your advice is good."

"Fine." Patrick nodded, zipping up his bag. "That's fair. Also, is this still a group thing, or are you planning to go solo now that you have my _very accurate _and _totally good_ advice?"

"No." Wayne shook his head. "Still totally a group date."

"Of three?" Patrick raised a brow.

"Dude, I'm working on it, okay?"

"Okay." Patrick shrugged. "I'm just really not interested in being a third wheel. And, I'm sure you'd be fine on a one-on-one date, anyway."

"Thanks, man. I just think it would go better if it were a group thing, y'know? Anyway, awesome. I gotta go to practise, I'll see you around."

"Yeah. Seeya around, Wayne." Patrick headed out to pick up Charlotte as Wayne headed off to practise. This was all going to be really good.

-Mentalist-

Charlotte had been persistent enough to convince Agent Darcy that they should be allowed to go to the park on Saturday. That was the reason that Patrick was walking along the sidewalk with his little sister. Agent Darcy hadn't been very happy that they were going somewhere without her, but she had some office thing she couldn't miss. That didn't bother Patrick very much, though. He would have rather gone to the park without Darcy anyway.

"I hope there's monkey bars." Charlotte went on. "I love monkey bars. And slides. You like slides, right, Patrick?"

"Yeah." Patrick replied distantly.

"Is your favourite still the swings, though?"

"Yep."

"I think there will be swings."

Patrick wasn't really listening as Charlotte continued on about the park she had envisioned and all the kids she were hoping that would be there to play with.. It was a very nice day out. A little chilly with the breeze, but still quite warm and sunny. Very few clouds in the sky. He saw the park up ahead and Charlotte practically squealed with excitement. Charlotte headed off to the jungle gym, going to play with the other kids that were there while Patrick strolled lazily over to the swing set and grabbed an empty swing, pushing off gently so he swayed slowly. The swings were his favourite because they relaxed him. He could just sit there thinking and swinging. Sometimes he was observing. He heard some shrieking laughter and looked over to see Charlotte running around with some of the other kids. It looked like they were playing tag.

He wasn't sure how long exactly he had been on the swing, but it had been some time. Charlotte and her new friends had changed their game from tag to whatever had suited their interest. Patrick began to stop paying attention until there was a scream and some loud yelling. He got off the swing and hurried over to where the group of kids had gathered around.

"That was mean, Josh! Leave her alone! It's not her fault you are bad at tag and couldn't catch her! You didn't have to push her!" A brown haired boy, about the same age as Charlotte, was standing between her and a taller boy. He looked familiar. Why?

"Shut up, Andy! I didn't push her! She tripped."

Charlotte was on the ground, holding her leg with tears running down her cheeks. "You pushed me! I hit my knee on the slide! That hurt!"

"Cry baby!" The taller boy spat at her.

"Stop it! She got hurt! Leave her alone!" Andy retorted and then turned to try and help Charlotte up.

"Hey, what's going-" But Patrick didn't get to finish when the taller boy pushed Andy over. "Uh-oh." Patrick hurried over and helped Charlotte up first while the other children egged on the fist fight between the two boys. He made sure that Charlotte was okay first before turning back to the fight.

"Hey!" He heard a voice that he recognised and looked up in time to see Teresa tearing the two boys away from one another and shoving the taller one to the side, turning to the shorter, brown haired boy.

"Hey!" The taller boy yelled.

Teresa stood up and turned on him. "Go home, Jeff! Leave, now!"

"You're not my mom!"

"No, but what do you think will happen your parents find out you've been fighting!? I'll tell them. It's not a far walk. I'm _telling_ you to leave. Not asking. Go!"

The boy seemed frightened by Teresa's threat and hurriedly retreated, followed by the other kids who all tentatively went back to playing. Teresa turned back around to face Andy, panting heavier than she should have been. Patrick noticed she was wearing a long sleeved shirt. While the breeze was a bit chilly, a long sleeved shirt and track pants seemed like a bit much. Patrick was just comfortable with his T-shirt and jeans. He checked to make sure that Charlotte's leg was fine and dry her tears as he pretended not to be paying attention to Teresa and Andy.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to get into fights?" Teresa panted.

"But Jeff started it! He's mean!"

"Then don't play with him." Teresa took out a tissue from her pocket and handed it to Andy, so that he could deal with his bloody nose.

"But we were all playing together. And he started playing after me. I was there first."

"Okay, I get that. Just be more careful. You could get seriously hurt." she brushed some hair out of his face so that she could assess any other damage done. "You want to go home?"

"But dad's home."

"I know. But James is doing homework. If we're quiet, you two can probably go do something fun after you change and get cleaned up."

"Why can't _we_ do something fun?"

"I have homework and I'm not up for much right now."

"Why not?"

"I'm sore."

A moment of silent communication seemed to pass between Andy and Teresa. "Oh. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah." Teresa nodded. "I'm fine. Come on."

"Wait!" Charlotte called as they were about to leave.

They both turned around to look at her and Patrick.

Charlotte was now standing up again and wiped off the remaining tears. "Thank you, Andy."

"You're welcome." Andy smiled.

"Do you want some ice cream? Or some candy? It can help you feel better."

"I-It's okay." Andy shook his head. "Thank you, Charlotte."

"But I have to say thank you." Charlotte looked up at Patrick. "It's only fair, right?"

"Yeah." Patrick dug into his back pocket where he'd stored twenty dollars, in case they had decided they wanted something. Or if there was an emergency. He handed her one of the ten dollar bills. "Just a small cone for each of you. That's it. Darcy will kill me if you don't want dinner. And you have to come right back from the ice cream cart, you hear me?"

"Yep." Charlotte nodded, taking the bill.

"You really don't have to-" Teresa began.

"Shush." Patrick interrupted her. "Let the girl be thankful and buy Andy an ice cream."

"Come on, Andy." Charlotte smiled and gestured for Andy to follow her in the direction of the ice cream cart. He did follow and they made their way down the path. The cart was close enough to the park that Patrick could see it, so he deemed it a safe distance.

"Shall we?" Patrick asked, gesturing to the swings.

Teresa eyed him suspiciously, but followed him to the swing get and took the swing next to the one he had chosen, swinging on it gently.

"You get cold easily?" Patrick inquired, glancing at her light blue, long sleeved shirt again.

"Yeah, sometimes." She shrugged.

"Well, then I guess I better not offer you any ice cream."

"Was that an offer that was disguised as mockery?"

"I wouldn't mock you." Patrick shook his head.

"Suuurrreee." Teresa rolled her eyes sarcastically before glancing over at the ice cream cart where Andy and Charlotte were being handed their ice cream.

"You wanna swing higher? I can push you." Patrick got off his swing.

"No, I'm okay…Seriously, I'm fine. I don't want to swing any higher." She quickly tried to convince him not to push her as he got up and stood behind her swing. "Please don't. Please, please, please."

"Tell me your favourite movie."

"No."

"Fine. I'm gonna push on one. Two. Th-"

"Can't push someone who isn't on a swing." She got up, not quite as fast as she would have liked due to her complaining muscles.

Patrick placed his hands on her shoulders and gently got her back on the swing, but she continued to struggle. When it was apparent that she wasn't going to give up, despite the soreness that was evident, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her waist to weigh her down on the swing and hold her in place better. "Your favourite movie, or I'm going to twist the swing chain and let you go."

"You wouldn't."

"Lets test that theory." He stepped to the side, pulling her with him.

"No, no!" She struggled again to make him let go. "Beauty and the Beast!" She caved. "Beauty and the Beast!" She tried to twist out of his grip that he relinquished at her answer, but fell backwards into his chest, putting all her weight on her left thigh against the hard plastic of the swing. "Ow!" She gritted her teeth.

"Uh-oh." Patrick tried to help her sit up on the swing, but it kept moving, making his attempts awkward and only more painful for Teresa. "Hold on." He told her. At least she wasn't screaming or something. Teresa stilled as Patrick shifted so that he could slip an arm under her knees while the other supported her back and he lifted her off the swing. She was lighter than he'd been expecting. He placed her gently on the grass at the edge of the sandy area of the park. "There. You're leg okay?" He moved to check it.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Let me see it."

"No."

"Is it bruised?"

"Yeah, I fell. I told you."

"But that's how you said you cut your arm."

"And I got some bruises. It's nothing. I've had worse falls before." She brushed some sand off her pants.

"What are you doing?" Andy asked as he and Charlotte approached with their ice creams.

"Were you playing princess?" Charlotte inquired. "I want to play princess, too!"

Andy laughed. "Teresa doesn't play princess."

"Why not?"

"I just don't." Teresa said.

"You should." Charlotte told her.

"I'm not cut out for fancy dresses and tea parties and stuff." Teresa got up awkwardly with her now very sore muscles.

Patrick helped her carefully, not sure the extent of her injuries.

"Come on, Andy. I'll make you some lunch."

Andy pouted slightly. It was such a nice day. He had just gotten out of the house. He didn't want to go back. "Okay." He said, glumly. "Bye, Charlotte. Thank you for the ice cream. And thank you…um…"

"Patrick."

"Patrick." Andy nodded.

"No problem." Patrick smiled. "See you guys around."

"Yeah." Andy nodded back.

"Bye Charlotte, Patrick." Teresa smiled and turned, leaving with Andy.

"Teresa." Charlotte said, almost contemplatively.

Patrick looked at her a bit confused.

Charlotte looked back up at him with a smile. "That's a pretty name."

"Yeah."

"I like her. Is she your friend?"

"Mhm. But I'm more concerned about you and Andy." Patrick teased.

"What about me and Andy? We're friends."

"_Mhm_."

"We are!"

"Whatever you say."

"Patrick! We _are_." Charlotte almost whined.

Patrick laughed. "Okay. If you say so. How about you finish your ice cream and then I'll push you on the swings? But you have to give me a bite."

"Okay." Charlotte held out her ice cream cone.

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**Author's Note: That's it for now. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and leave a review letting me know what you think! :)**


	7. Lame Friends

**Author's Note: SSsssoooooooo sorry for the delay in this chapter! I just hit a wall with the writing and I don't know why and the chapter was supposed to be longer, but I saw that if I didn't split it this chapter was going to be ridiculously long and so I decided to break it into smaller parts(probably just two). I hope to have the next chapter up much sooner. Sorry, again for the delay! I seem to be a glutton for punishment and have three stories going on right now. One of them is almost over, though, so that will hopefully speed my updates for this up as well. Thank you all for sticking with me and for your awesome reviews, favourites and follows!**

**Disclaimer: I want, but don't have.**

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"No." Teresa shook her head.

"Aw, come on. Please?"

Patrick raised a brow as he made his way to his seat. Teresa made it to science class before he did. He said nothing as he sat down, intent on eavesdropping on their conversation.

"No. Why can't you just go by yourself?"

"Come on." Grace rolled her eyes. "You know how lame my parents can be. I'd have to be back by, like, nine if it were one on one. And if I weren't back they'd send a search party. Please, please, _please_?"

"Why do _I_ have to be the third wheel? Can't you find someone you mildly dislike instead?"

"You won't be."

"_Right_." It was Teresa's turn to roll her eyes.

"No. I'm serious. He said he's bringing a friend too."

Teresa glared at Grace suspiciously. "_Which_ friend exactly?"

"…Well, I don't know. I didn't really ask. But you won't be the third wheel."

"Depending on the friend, I think I might prefer to be the third wheel."

"Please do this for me, Teresa. If you do…I'll…I'll make you lunch for all of next week."

Teresa continued to glare suspiciously.

"I'll bring you cookies."

Nothing.

"I'll pick Andy up from school for the whole week and walk him home. Add in tutoring James in math if you let me put you in a dress and makeup."

Teresa pursed her lips. "Fine." The offer was too good to pass up. "But if the friend he brings is Jeff, I'm going to turn around and walk back home. I swear. I'll still tell your parents I went if you keep your end, but I'm going right home if he brings Jeff."

"Deal." Grace nodded and smiled, doing a little happy wiggle in her seat.

Teresa said hello to him as she turned to face the front of class in her seat.

"Heated debate this morning. You hurried to class for it?" Patrick smiled slyly as he wrote the date down on the blank page in his notebook.

"Not really." Teresa shrugged. "Just managed to get to class earlier somehow."

"What were you two talking about?" Though, Patrick was sure he already knew. He glanced back at Grace who was waving at Wayne who had just walked in, not paying them any attention at all.

"Wayne over there," Teresa tilted her head, "finally got the nerve up to ask Grace out. On a double date, of course."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Patrick shrugged, innocently.

"Yeah, if I were Grace." Teresa shook her head. "I'm probably going to get stuck with Testosterone Man who's super power is boring people to sleep with recaps of their best football game moments, eating like they were deprived of food for days and acting like I'm the damsel in distress to their knight who thinks he's in shining armour when it's really just cardboard covered in tinfoil."

Patrick tried to hold back a laugh and it came out as a chuckle as he tried to imagine Teresa in a pink princess dress, looking very unamused, as any member of the football team-except Wayne, of course-paraded around on a fake horse in tinfoil armour. Her statement would have hurt him, but she didn't actually know it was him. She was attacking the character of her school's other football players, not him. "Oh, you make your date sound so sexy." Patrick joked.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to brag or anything." Teresa replied sarcastically.

-Mentalist-

It had taken what seemed like a long interrogation that had stretched over the week, and a brief contemplation of hypnotism, before Agent Darcy decided he could go with Wayne on the date Friday night. He was, however, a little afraid she was going to have a tracking device on him or Darcy was going to have someone-if not herself-following him. Creepy. He'd have to keep an eye out for that. He gave himself one final look-over in the mirror, making sure his hair was nice and everything. He'd worn a nice light blue button-up shirt and the best pair of dark wash jeans that he could find. Dressy, but not too dressy. Since it was colder outside after dark, he put on a dark red jacket with black buttons and quickly slipped on his shoes before hurrying out of the house so that Agent Darcy couldn't change her mind at the last minute. He'd told her he was getting picked up and was always going to be with someone instead of wandering around on his own. It was a condition. However, he didn't want to sit around and wait for Wayne and headed out, sending his friend a text. '_Ready?_'

'_As I'll ever be. At a stoplight. Almost at your street._'

'_k_'

Patrick waved at the other boy as he approached the dark coloured car. "Hey. You look nice." He said once he got in the front passenger seat.

"Thanks, man. You look good, too."

Patrick could tell that Wayne was nervous. _Really_ nervous. Poor guy. Though, he didn't understand why. Grace was very clearly into him, she wouldn't reject him just because she didn't like his jacket or something dumb like that. Patrick sat beside Wayne and tried to give him a pep talk on their way to the restaurant.

"Hi." Wayne said nervously to the hostess that greeted them. "Um…"

"What my friend means to say is, 'two tables for two, please'?" Patrick explained.

The hostess nodded, jotting something down at the pedestal and grabbing some menus.

"I told you it's not Jeff! Relax." Grace entered the restaurant with a complaining Teresa Lisbon.

"Great. And you couldn't have bothered to find out who it actually was?"

"It's more fun as a surprise."

"For _you_. With my luck, I'm totally getting stuck with some lame friend of his that probably couldn't get a date without help." Teresa grumbled sourly.

"Hello." Patrick turned and waved at them.

Teresa froze, staring at him with wide-eyed shock.

Grace slapped a hand over her mouth, not sure if she was more embarrassed for her friend or entertained by her friend's embarrassment. She used a tremendous amount of self-restraint not to laugh.

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**Author's Note: Please leave a review and let me know what you think! :3**


	8. Late Nights

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! Sorry again for the long wait. This chapter is longer than I expected it to be. Thank you all for your favourites, follows and reviews as well as sticking with me. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Youn know the drill.**

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"Your tables?" The hostess spoke up.

"Yeah." Wayne nodded awkwardly. "Our tables. Thanks." They followed her through the fairly busy restaurant until she showed them each of their tables. They were two booths, back to back. Grace and Wayne took a seat in the first booth as Patrick and Teresa took their seats in the neighbouring one.

Teresa kept glancing around, cheeks flushed in embarrassment and very unsure of what to say or do next. The hostess left after informing them that their waiter would be there shortly.

Teresa picked up her menu and read over it, trying to regain her composure.

Patrick smiled behind his menu, glancing at her. The top layers of her dark hair were pulled back and clipped with a nice clip, giving him a very good view of her face that only had some eyeliner and eye shadow on it. A natural blush stained her cheeks, no point for cosmetics there. She was wearing a dark blue dress with a long sleeved shrug over her arms. She was definitely going to yell at him for not telling her it was him sooner. "The pasta looks good." He commented innocently.

"I was looking at the burgers." She replied.

Patrick placed his menu flat on the table and looked at her with an odd expression. "_Hamburgers_?"

She glanced at him and nodded. "What's wrong with hamburgers?"

"Nothing. I'm all for a good hamburger, but you're at a nice restaurant and you want a hamburger?"

"It's my money." Teresa sat up a bit straighter. "I can spend it on whatever food I want."

"_Your_ money?"

"That's right. What else did you think I was going to use to bye my dinner?" Teresa raised a brow.

"That's not what I mean." Patrick shook his head. "_I'm_ paying for dinner."

"No, you're not."

"Yes. I am."

"_No_. You're _not_."

"I am."

"No."

"Yes."

"_No_."

"_Yes_. Teresa. We can do this all night if you'd like, but personally, I'd like to have a slightly more stimulating conversation."

"So, now I'm incapable of having a decent conversation?"

"I didn't say that. I'm saying that I'm paying for dinner, whether you like it or not. Obviously you could afford it if you wanted to, but I want to pay for dinner."

Teresa's glossed lips were pressed tightly together as she glared at him.

"You can pay for your own movie ticket. That make you feel any better? That's my only offer."

"Fine." Teresa grumbled. "You can pay for the stupid dinner."

"Be glad I'm not Jeff." Patrick teased.

"Don't make fun of me." Teresa retorted. "I'm still angry at you for that. Thanks for not using _any_ of the ample opportunity that you had all week not to mention that you were my date. Jerk."

"Aw, don't be mad."

"Why shouldn't I be? You let me ramble and grumble all week about how lame my date was probably going to be while knowing that _you_ were my date. What the hell?"

"I was going to tell you. But your rants were so entertaining. And your pouting was so cute. If I told you, you might not have come. Don't lie. As much as you grumbled about this whole night, you were insanely curious to know who your mystery date was."

"Shut up."

"I'll take that as a confirmation." Patrick nodded, returning to his menu.

"Asshole."

"Well, sorry for trying to make life a bit more interesting and mysterious for you." Patrick teased.

"Yeah. I'm sure all your intentions were pure." Teresa rolled her eyes.

-Mentalist-

"Is it good?" Patrick smiled when he saw Teresa take a bite out of her burger. The reply he got was a bunch of jumbled sounds that might have been words, had she not been talking with her mouth full. "What?"

Teresa emptied her mouth a bit. "It's fantastic."

"Glad to hear it." He smiled and wrapped some pasta around his fork before shoving the pasta into his mouth. They both ate in slightly awkward silence. "How are your brothers?"

"Good." Teresa nodded. "Andy was a bit sore on Sunday. You know…"

"Yeah. I hope the ice cream helped a little bit."

"He really liked the ice cream. Charlotte's fine?"

"Charlotte's great." Patrick smiled. They'd had silently agreed not to talk about the park incident at school. Not for any particular reason, they just hadn't. "She'd like to teach you how to play princess."

"I think I'll pass on that offer." Teresa wrinkled her nose adorably.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it. Princess tea parties can be riveting."

Teresa chuckled. "And how many have you been to?"

"More than I'd care to say…or count."

Teresa's smile widened. "Cute. I think it's sweet you do that for your little sister. Either that, or you have no life at all."

"Well, that's mean. I do have a life. Is this how you talk to all guys that buy you dinner? You accuse them all of not having a life? Or am I just special?" Patrick joked back.

"I think it's just you." Teresa teased.

"So I _am_ special?"

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Read into everything. Like everything has to mean something besides what it seems like it means. Like everything is a puzzle."

"Everything _is_ a puzzle. Most easier to solve than others." Patrick shrugged.

"Sure." Teresa rolled her eyes and took another bite of her burger.

-Mentalist-

"I thought the movie was pretty good." Patrick commented as they left the theatre. "A few too many guns for my liking, but it was still a decent film."

"You don't like guns?" Teresa raised a brow.

"Not particularly." Patrick shrugged.

"I've never met a guy before that didn't like guns and attended princess tea parties." Teresa shook her head, glancing back at Grace and Rigsby who seemed to have stars in their eyes.

"I take it you like guns?" Patrick followed her gaze.

"Well, I want to be a cop. I'd hope I liked guns."

Patrick looked back at her. "A cop, huh?"

"Yep." She nodded.

"How did you decide on that?"

Teresa shrugged. "I just decided that's what I want to be."

Patrick gave her a suspicious look, but didn't push. He'd get her to tell him, one way or another.

"You guys want a ride home?" Wayne called from behind them.

Teresa and Patrick turned around.

"No, I'm just going to walk. My house isn't that far away. It's only twenty minutes." Teresa shook her head. "Thank you for the offer, though."

"Teresa." Grace looked worried. "No, come on. Get a ride home. Please."

"Seriously. I'm fine." Teresa shook her head. "I can take the bus if I change my mind. I have a bus pass."

"Come on. Please. I worry about you walking home by yourself, Teresa." Grace continued to plead.

Teresa huffed. "Fine. But you stay in the car."

Grace nodded.

The group headed back to Wayne's car and piled in. Wayne turned the key for the ignition, but the engine sputtered. He furrowed his brow and tried again, but the same thing happened.

"What the hell?" Wayne muttered as he popped the hood and got out. After a few moments he got back in the driver seat and pulled out his phone, irritated.

"What is it?" Grace asked.

"Someone messed with my gas line to the engine." Wayne gritted his teeth as he dialled. "And I just got this car. Got a great price on it from one of my friends that works in a mechanic shop. Damn it." He put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Roger. Your towing guy still working?…Yeah. Someone messed with my engine. It won't start…How do I fix a messed up gas line and an empty transmission fluid?…Okay. Regal City North 14...Thanks, dude."

"What's the report?" Patrick asked.

"Well," Wayne started. "We're getting a tow, but I won't be able to drop you guys off at your doors or anything. The towing guy is kind of a grouch. I might be able to get him to drop you off closer to your houses, though. I'm sorry. I don't know why the hell this happened. Whoever messed with my engine is a total ass."

"It's okay." Teresa shrugged. "Not your fault people can be rude."

"It's fine." Patrick agreed. "Completely not your fault."

"We have twenty minutes to wait before he gets here."

"What should we do while we wait?" Grace asked, looking at all of them.

"Before we decide that, where do you guys live? So I know where he can let you guys off."

"Spear street." Teresa answered.

"Washington street." Patrick went next.

"You guys are just a few blocks from each other." Grace's eyes widened.

Teresa shot her a glare.

"What?" Grace asked, innocently. "It's true."

"That's good." Wayne said. "One less stop I need to convince him to make."

"On to the matters of right now." Grace spoke up again. "What are we going to do while we wait? I Spy? Twenty Questions? Truth or Dare?"

"Oh, Truth or Dare!" Patrick jumped in. He'd never had an actual game with regular teenagers before and it seemed like fun.

"No." Teresa said, firmly. "Twenty Questions."

"What's wrong?" Patrick teased. "Scared to play Truth or Dare?"

"No. I used to play all the time, until all the questions and dares got stupid. Truth: 'do you like him?' Dare: 'I dare you to tell him you like him next time you meet in the hall.' What happened to the good questions and dares? Like, hold your breath for twenty seconds."

"You can't hold you're breath that long." Patrick told her.

"The point is that you're supposed to try, though." Teresa rolled her eyes.

"Fine." Grace thought again. "How about, Never Have I Ever? The non-drinking version."

"How do you play?" Patrick asked.

"We all hold out our hands. We go in a circle and someone says something that they've never done. If anyone else has done what the person said, they put down one finger. We continue around the circle and the last person to put down all their fingers wins."

"Doesn't sound too hard." Patrick held out his hands.

"I'm in." Wayne said.

"Sure." Teresa held out her hands.

"Awesome. I'll start." She paused for a moment, thinking of something she'd never done that the others might have. "Never have I ever…stayed out past midnight."

"Shit." Teresa muttered, tucking her thumb against her palm along with Wayne and Patrick.

"Teresa. You go next." Grace glanced at her friend.

"Okay." Teresa thought. "Never have I ever…been involved in a tea party." She grinned at Patrick, who raised a brow at her, putting down another finger. At least Grace put down a finger as well.

"Dude?" Wayne looked at Patrick confused.

"I have a little sister." Was all the explanation needed.

"Aw." Grace cooed. "That's so sweet. It's your turn."

"All right." Patrick contemplated all the things he could say that he hadn't done. "Never have I ever gone to a high school sporting event."

This time, they all gave him a weird look.

"I was home schooled." He grinned.

They all put down a finger.

Wayne's turn. "Never have I ever…had a pet."

Teresa and Grace each put a finger down.

"You never even had a pet?" Teresa asked Patrick.

Patrick was about to ask, _does the carnival's elephant count_, but shrugged instead. He didn't want to scare off his new friends so quickly. "My parents didn't like animals much."

"_Didn't_?" Teresa asked. She hadn't missed that key word.

"My parents died. My little sister and I moved her to live with our aunt." Yeah…that sounded like a totally legitimate story. Hopefully he could get Charlotte to play along if they ever ended up asking her about it.

"That's so sad." Grace sent him a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry."

Patrick shrugged, not wanting to get too far into it with them. "Not your fault it happened."

"Still." Grace said.

"It's your turn now." Patrick reminded her.

"Right. Never have I ever…had younger siblings."

Patrick and Teresa each put down a finger. A few more rounds later, the tow truck arrived and hitched the car to the back. With the most remaining fingers left up, Patrick was deemed the winner for the 'Never Have I Ever' game and they all packed into the tow truck, the driver grumbling something about being a taxi driver for 'damn' teenagers was not in his job description. Other than that, the ride was silent and slightly awkward. The driver let Patrick and Teresa off on Fourth street, close to their respective streets.

"You want me to walk you home?" Patrick offered, glancing at Teresa.

"No." She answered quickly, then added on a second thought, "But thanks for the offer."

Patrick's brow furrowed in question.

"I'll be fine." She tried to assure him.

"It's no problem. I'll walk you home."

"No, thank you. I'm fine." Teresa started heading off at a quick pace, hoping he wouldn't follow.

"It's late and this is the city. You shouldn't be walking by yourself." Patrick walked quickly to keep up.

"Well, I've survived every other time." She stopped walking and turned to face him. "And what about you? It's just as dangerous for you. You can just go home. I'll be fine. Seriously."

Patrick stopped, stuffing his hands in his pockets and giving her a smirk. "It's not very gentlemanly for me to not walk my date home. And it's more dangerous for you as a girl."

She glared daggers at him.

"What I mean," he quickly tried to rephrase his statement. "Thugs are more likely to mug or jump females than males. That's just how they are. Don't ask me why. I just want to make sure you get home safely."

"First of all, I'm not your date."

"Yes you are."

"No. I'm _not_."

"Keep thinking that all you want if it makes you feel better. But, that's not going to change the facts. Besides, I wasn't such a bad date, was I? You enjoyed yourself. Don't lie to me. I saw all those blushes and lip nibbles and that little flirty giggle you did-"

"Shut up." Teresa cut in, blushing deeply. "I don't giggle flirtatiously. Blushing happens all the time. It's normal for people to blush. And lots of people bite their lip sometimes."

"Yes, but people only do those things when they're around people they're attracted to or if they're embarrassed."

"Will you stop it?" Teresa pursed her lips together nervously.

"Only if you let me walk you home."

"No." She said, stubbornly.

"You probably didn't realise it, but you actually leaned into whenever we were standing next to-"

"Go home." She turned her head so he couldn't see her blush deepen and tried to walk away.

Again, Patrick followed, rattling on about all her subconscious indicators or slips that told him she'd enjoyed herself. Of course, that didn't last long before she interrupted him.

"Fine!" She huffed, exasperatedly. "Just stop it! Please. Be quiet!"

"I thought you might come around." Patrick grinned at her.

Teresa frowned and rolled her eyes as she kept walking toward her house, Patrick matching her stride beside her.

"You and Andy going to go to the park again tomorrow?" Patrick asked casually as they walked.

Teresa just grumbled.

"What?"

"I don't know." Teresa answered. "Maybe."

"You should text me if you are. I'll bring Charlotte and they can have a play date."

"Is this you trying to flirt with me, or set up our little siblings?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out." Patrick grinned at her.

Teresa rolled her eyes.

"Don't be so grumpy. I know you like the mystery." Patrick teased as they turned onto Teresa's street.

"You see right through me." Teresa replied sarcastically.

"That's what I do."

"I'm sure." Teresa stopped in front of a two story house with a small front yard. "This is me."

"Well that's disappointing. I was enjoying our conversation."

"I'm so sorry I don't live farther away." Teresa smirked.

"It's okay." Patrick grinned back. "I'll forgive you because you were such a fun date and you secretly like me."

"I do not!" Teresa smacked his shoulder in protest.

"Yet you still wanted to touch me."

"Oh, my god!" Teresa threw her hands up in exasperation.

Patrick laughed.

"Go home. You walked me to my house. Mission accomplished. Go and leave me in peace."

"I can still text you."

"You're threatening to harass me over the phone, too?"

"I would never harass you, Teresa."

"Yet that's all you've done tonight."

"That was not harassment." Patrick told her.

"Yeah, then what was it?"

"Me being a perfectly nice gentleman and you being too chicken to admit you had fun."

"I'm going inside now. We're done for tonight." But, the tone in her voice let him know she wasn't mad and that she was just teasing.

"Until later, then." Patrick nodded.

"Until later." Teresa turned and headed up the short walkway to her door.

The front door of her house opened and a muscular man with short, dark brown hair stepped out. He was wearing wrinkled jeans and a t-shirt. Teresa turned quickly to him and made a shooing motion with her hands, hoping he got the hint and left. He got the hint, but he didn't leave.

"There you are." The man slurred as he noticed Teresa. Patrick was almost certain the man was drunk. "Where have you been? Your brothers wouldn't shut up and you were nowhere to be found. It's past your bed time."

"I don't have a bed time." Teresa grumbled.

"You sassing me!?"

Teresa shook her head walking toward the front door, hoping to distract her father from Patrick, as the other teen had gone unnoticed as of yet.

"I'm sorry, I won't stay out so late next time."

"Damn right you won't! You have to start being responsible!"

"I'm sorry. Lets go inside."

"Don't you start telling me what to do, young lady! Who do you think you are?" He shoved Teresa into the door.

Patrick was debating what to do when his phone went off, grabbing the attention of the drunken man.

"Who the hell are you!?"

Patrick glanced at the caller ID. It was Agent Darcy. He had to pick up or she would freak. But if she heard a drunk man yelling aggressively at him in the background, she'd still freak. It was a lose-lose situation and he had to decide which loss was better. "I'm just…out for a stroll." He called to the man before picking up his phone. "Hello?"

"Patrick. Where the hell are you? You said you would be home by ten. Do you know what time it is?"

"Uh…too soon for you to be freaking out?"

"No. It's ten-O-five. Where are you!?"

"We're at the movies. My friends car was having some trouble, so we had to fix it. Forgot to call. Sorry."

"When you get back, you _will_ be sorry. I would have picked you up."

_Yeah, because you wouldn't intimidate and interrogate my friends at all._ "We're fixing it. I'll be back soon."

"I'm going to come get you."

"No. Seriously. We've basically got it all fixed. We're practically getting back in the car right now to leave."

"Hey! I'm talking to you boy! Don't ignore me! Show a little respect!"

"Dad! Stop! He's just out for a walk. Leave him alone. He's not doing anything wrong." Teresa tried to calm her father down.

"What was that?" Darcy demanded.

"Oh…just some kid and her dad arguing. I guess he doesn't like her boyfriend or something. Anyway. I gotta go." Teresa's father was only getting louder.

"Hold on, Patrick."

"I'll be back soon. Bye." And he hung up.

_Go!_ Teresa mouthed to him. _Go, now!_

Patrick debated for a moment. He didn't want to leave her like that, but all his presence was doing was making things worse. He hurried away.

-Mentalist-

He was changed and all ready for bed, still feeling bad for leaving Teresa, when his phone rang. "Hello?" He hadn't even looked at the caller ID.

"Hi." Teresa's voice was quiet on the other end.

"Hi." Patrick was surprised and sat down on his bed. "How are you?"

"I'm okay…Look, I'm really sorry about my dad. He wasn't supposed to be home and that was so embarrassing."

"It's fine. I just hope you're okay."

"Yeah. I'm okay. I just wanted to apologize."

"No need." Patrick shook his head. "It's fine. I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I'll let you get to sleep, then." Teresa said.

"Yeah. I'll see you later. Feel free to text me or something."

"Sure. Good night."

"Good night, Teresa."

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I'm trying to have these chapters up faster guys! See you guys next time. I'm off to my blood donating appointment!**


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